


Fire In His Eyes

by Musyc



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Bellatrix Lestrange - character, Blackcest, Community: daily_deviant, Crossgen, Draco Malfoy - character, F/M, Incest, Manipulation, Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-06
Updated: 2011-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musyc/pseuds/Musyc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella knows what can be done with a man who needs something so much that it burns behind his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire In His Eyes

There is no pleasure in it, no joy, but she made her agreement, she signed her contract, and therefore when Rodolphus grips her shoulder and calls her to the bedroom, she goes. She stretches out on their bed and spreads her thighs, allowing him entrance into her body. Rodolphus has never been a demanding lover and it is over quickly, with his thin seed leaking from her cunt as he rolls to the side and sleeps.

Bella closes her eyes and waits until his snores shake his body and the drool puddles beneath his cheek. When he is out, away in dreams of fire and blood, she rises from the bed and cleans his semen from her thighs. She wraps her dressing gown around her naked body and leaves, feet silent on the thick carpets that line her sister's home. There is always a lamp glowing in the library, and tonight, on holiday from that wretched Muggle-loving school, her nephew is curled up in a settee by the fireplace, a bottle of his father's brandy at his elbow.

He looks up at her entrance, his hand diving into his robes for his wand. She shakes her head and moves to stand behind him, her hands resting on his thin shoulders. "Too slow," she says, feeling his pulse beat beneath her finger as she draws it along his neck. "You should have heard me before I entered the room. Always be ready, nephew. I could have slit your throat before you had your wand out."

He nods in silence and returns his attention to the flames dancing in the hearth. There are grey shadows beneath his eyes and his cheekbones are sharp as blades. Bella curls into the settee beside him, her hand on his thigh. "You're doing well," she tells him, watching his face for the small changes in his expression. The deep lines that bracket his mouth smooth out; the tense muscles around his eyes relax. She is lying to him, and he knows it, but the lie is something for him to cling to, something that warms his blood as he contemplates the return to a school still infected with Mudbloods and whores.

She waits beside him, quiet, making no demands of him, expecting nothing of him, and before long he sighs and his head falls back. Bella raises her hand and smooths his hair from his brow, stroking gently. The gesture makes him judder like a downy fledgling and he exhales with a quaver. His head falls onto her shoulder and Bella hides a smile in his hair. He is so obvious, his emotions and wants so open to anyone who cares to look. Lucius is wallowing in his own failure, Cissa wanders the corridors of the Manor like a ghost, and Draco craves the evidence of affection denied to him by his distracted parents. It is clear in his every movement, every shuddering breath.

Bella kisses Draco's hair and murmurs to him. "I'm proud of you." Four small syllables, and Draco lets out his breath in a sob. He curls into her, his arm around her waist, his head on her breast. Bella cradles his slim body, stroking his back, his spine ridged beneath his thick robes. She holds him, crooning softly, a lullaby her mother had sung to her, one that she knows her sister has sung to him. Draco's quiet sobs soon ease and he lifts his head, muscles tensing as he starts to pull from her.

Bella threads her fingers through his hair and tugs his head close. She only intends to kiss his cheek, as she has so many nights before, but Draco turns his head and catches her mouth. He kisses her, lips stiff and rough where he's chewed the skin away. He leans back and looks away, his cheek flushed pink. Bella presses her hand to his jaw and forces his head around. Draco opens his eyes and she can see the hot shame in them, the flicker of lust. It makes her heart race to realize what she holds in her palms as she cradles his face. There is the look of a man who wants something he knows he should not have. It is something he _needs_ and Bella knows what can be done with a man who needs something so much that it burns behind his eyes. She knows what he can be convinced to do.

She smiles at him, gentle, so gentle, and she cups the nape of his neck. Two fingers slide down his jaw and across to his lips, and she traces the outline of his mouth. Bella licks her lips and _there_ is the glimmer of hope in his eyes before he closes them, shuttering away his lust. She leans close and kisses each closed eye, his lashes tickling her lips. With a soft hum, she tips her head and kisses his mouth. She whispers, weeks of Occlumency lessons and explorations into his thoughts guiding her words. "You are the last son of the Malfoy and Black lines. You are pure of blood. You can have whatever you want, Draco. You can have this. Take what you deserve."

The sound he makes is barely human and he cracks like lightning. He lunges for her, pushing her down against the arm of the settee. Bella rips her dressing gown open and Draco drops his head to her breasts. He licks at her nipples, sucks them into points, and Bella fists his hair with an encouraging moan. She locks her thighs around his hips as he grinds against her, his cock solid and thick and hard as only an adolescent wizard can achieve. He's shivering and groaning with his thrusts and she hauls his head up by the hair.

Draco cries out, his skin red and damp with sweat, his face twisted in a snarl, eyes unfocused and lost. He shoves upright, kneeling between her splayed legs, and he jerks open his robes. Bella shoves his hand away from his cock and wraps her hand around it. Two strokes, three, and he's coming, white jets over her fingers and spattering onto her thighs. She scoops up a thick blob and licks it from her fingers as he slumps onto his heels. "Well done," she says, and his eyes snap open. He gulps and scrambles away from her, cowering into the corner of the settee with his robes askew and his limbs trembling.

Bella sits up, her thighs sticking together as she moves. She wraps her dressing gown around her waist, nipples stiff against the fabric. She leans down and kisses the top of Draco's head as he shivers. "Well done," she says again. She cups his cheeks and lifts his head to force him to look at her. His face is full of shame and self-loathing, but still, banked well down beneath the silver of his eyes, there is want. Bella smooths back his hair and smiles at him. "It's all right," she tells him in a whisper. "Whatever you want, Draco, you may have. Just between us. You deserve this."

She knows he's watching her when she walks away and she puts a sway into her hips. As she crawls back into bed beside her husband, she drops her hand between her thighs and traces the dried seed on her skin. The trick will be to get him past his shame. Once he will do anything to have her, she can have him do anything.


End file.
